They fell forward, collapsing into a boneless pile. At the last moment, Russ twisted and landed beside her, with his legs tangled up with hers. He slung his arm over her waist.
“Mine.” He chuckled as he pulled her to him, spooning her back to his chest. The sound rumbled in his chest and reverberated in hers. She’d never felt so safe and so happy. But she wasn’t sure she should tell Russ.
She slapped his belly and smiled. “Damn cocky weres.”
Russ’s only response—a soft snore.
The End
Publisher’s Note
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About Theodora Lane
Theodora Lane was born in the south, raised by her grandmother who taught her the art of the backhanded compliment, how to make sweet tea, and that you can never have too many husbands, just not at the same time. By day Theodora lives an unassuming life, having lunch with the ladies, attending baby showers and playing refined card games. By night, she writes wickedly sexy and funny stories, hangs out in bars, and gathers ideas for her next book. She can be reached at [email protected]
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